Last Meal

By Matthew Senn I sit down to the smell of steak and skunk beer. There’s a greying woman behind the saloon bar flipping meals and meat with a rusty fork. She turns and smiles holding out a finger for me to wait. “Take your time. There’s no hurry.” “Cold out there?” “Yes, ma’am.” I adjustContinue reading “Last Meal”

You got Faith. I got Works.

By Matthew Senn Marshal’d come back on a wagon that wasn’t his, pulled by a horse that sure as hell wasn’t his either.  Coming to a crawl outside Farrell’s’, a group of us gathered to greet ‘im. He didn’t smile. His face & the cross onnis neck covered with dust. A fresh bullet graze satContinue reading “You got Faith. I got Works.”